


Untouched Space

by Lostflamefox



Series: Original or Fanfic One-Shots [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Excerpt from bigger work, teaser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 19:31:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostflamefox/pseuds/Lostflamefox
Summary: This is practically an excerpt from one of the books in an original series I'm in the process of writing. (As in I haven't uh... started writing it yet, but I expect to start within a few months. Developing an entire world takes time.) This is pretty much the last chapter - besides an epilogue - of one of the books I'm planning. For the sake of having as little spoilers as possible, this isn't word for word.





	Untouched Space

Dislodged dirt and pebbles clattered against the stone flooring of the cavern, echoing in the vast, open space. A feline's paw reached through the small opening, clearing a space large enough for the creature to crawl through. The paw retreated back into the depths, and the creature backed into the cavern. It had to duck down and wiggle backwards, dirt scraping against its ribs and caved belly, though it made it through. Grasped in its jaws was a recently-skinned fox's pelt, the inside still wet and red with blood. A gleaming white skull rested atop, streaked with flesh and blood that hadn't been picked away. The bottom of the pelt was coated in a layer of dirt from being dragged.

The creature was distinctly feline, though not one seen amid the animals of the First World, and female. No whiskers stuck out from her face. Her tail was four times as long as her body, curled up into a spiral that swayed back and forth behind her. Toes on each of her paws were long, enough to almost be considered fingers. Her fur wasn't too long or too short; too thick or too thin. It was of a jet-black color, causing her to blend into the shadows. Green eyes gleamed like emerald fires, the retinas reflecting the light that came from a shaft of sun that broke through a hole in the ceiling. She dropped the pelt from her jaws, and the edge she had been holding hit the floor with a soft sound. Light gleamed off of the feline's small, sharp teeth, but it quickly disappeared as her mouth snapped shut.

Pain throbbed through every one of her muscles as she shuffled in place to take a look around the cave. Internally she winced at the memory of why, the phantom sensation of wind whipping through her fur and her body slamming into hard stone with enough force to shatter every one of her bones. That had seemed like only moments ago, but she supposed it would be at least since last sunrise. The power that she hadn't had before moved through her veins and into her muscles and bones as easily as water sinking into loose earth, healing the injuries that would have killed any other. The only thing that she didn't agree with was the pain that it caused her to heal, causing her to move as an elder many times her age would, with all the creaking of protesting bones and joints that didn't seem to work quite right.

Above her head, the cavern seemed to arch up at least thirty times her height. The room was almost as wide and long as it was tall, counting each alcove and outermost corner. A jagged hole amid the dirt ceiling, right over the center of the room, was the only source of light. The light shone onto a pedestal-like ledge amid the mostly flat rock of the center, and was actually coated in dirt. From there, the rock formed ledges, leading all the way to the wall, then they lead upwards to shelves of rock, or perches that looked over the cavern. Water dripped from one of the corners, forming a stalactite, into a small pool surrounded by small walls of dirt that kept it from flowing freely. No other stalactite, stalagmite, or any other regular cave rock formation seemed to have formed there.

Patches of soil were scattered around the walls, floors, and ceiling of the cavern. Minerals sparkled with what light they caught, though they were tucked in the farthest corners from the center. The tunnel she entered from led to a small platform, with a steep step onto the next ledge. All the way across the cavern, the shadowed entrance to a deeper, darker part of the cave loomed, though too dark for her eyes to pick it up from her distance. No light seemed to grace its tunnel, leaving it a void that pulled on her curiosity. 

Black slits widened into almost ovals as she peered around the cavern, one paw hovering just above the ledge right below the platform. Hesitantly, she pressed it onto the rock, and smoothly moved down to the ledge. The stone under the pads of her feet felt so cold it seemed to suck the warmth from her paws. Although the walls were far from her, it felt as though the stone was compressing against her fur, trying to squish her into a smaller shape. It took a lot of her willpower not to shift into something a smaller, like a bankinsa.

Even with the hole in the ceiling, and the tunnel she'd entered from, she got the feeling that the air she breathed had not been breathed before. The stone and soil she touched had never graced another animal's step, or had any creature's eyes glance upon them. She was treading on grounds that had been left untouched for generations, maybe even since Creation. Yet it all seemed familiar, as if she had seen, breathed, and touched things there previously. The tunnel that loomed ahead seemed so much more tantalizing, beckoning her over to take a look.

Just one walk-through, if light permitting.

She leaped across the sun-baked soil patch in the center, the heat soaking quickly into her black pelt, absorbing it quicker than she could make her way across. Her landing on the other side was silent, as if she had never left or touched the ground in the first place. The only way to tell she had touched the ground at all was the lurching of her muscles as they tried to continue to move forwards as she stopped. Her claws nearly slid across the stone as she skidded to a stop, though they stayed in their sheathes. Already the warmth in her back was unbearable, and she was glad it was shadowed in the rest of the cave.

As she continued her walk towards the looming tunnel entrance, she continued slipping up and padding along the rough-ended though smooth-topped ledges that made up the floors of the cavern. With her warmth, they seemed to ebb the pain away as well; washing away anything that had troubled her, taking it somewhere else deep within the world, perhaps even into the void. Her muscles had made a full recovery, and her movements became even more fluid, as if she hadn't a single bone in her body. The slight rigidness had disappeared as quickly as traces of snow under the glaring heat of the sun, replaced with what was natural for her species.

All of her moving paused as she reached the tunnel entrance. It seemed wider than she had expected it to be up close, at least the length of her tail. The top of the entrance reached high as well, but still not as high as the ceiling. A cold draft of air sluggishly drifted from within, dragging at the outermost layer of her fur and out into the rest of the cave. "... Spooky and foreboding. Just how I like it," she murmured to herself. Her voice was deeper, but not quite deep enough to be considered masculine. It came out as somewhat of a hum, thrumming deep from her thin chest, almost a purr, though with a hint of rasp.

With a sigh and a mumble of "Here I go," she breached the threshold, entering into the pitch-black tunnel.

Almost as if on cue, the tunnel seemed to be bathed in ethereal light, from a source unknown and one she couldn't find. The tunnel widened a tail-length from the entrance, until she was dwarfed almost as much as she had been by the cavern itself. One glance to her left and right and she realized on the walls there were now paintings. They were Old-Style, from when creatures were still learning how to paint and dictate scenes with crude drawings. Basic colors and paints from plants and blood, charcoal and minerals, smeared with a paw preferably, but sometimes a talon. She'd seen very few of these, but she knew that this was not the work of one, but of many. The details themselves were abysmal, but she could make out what they were.

On one side was an entire fleet of noxes. Beasts that stood at least six times her height, felines with powerful muscles and obvious deadly weapons. Their most notable was their fangs; an average of a foot long, sticking out of their muzzles and on display for the world to gaze upon. Their front right paws were replaced with a foot of a reptile, with a huge raptor's claw that could easily tear anything, even rock. Although useless now, wings sprouted from their backs. Ones with thin layers of fur and membranes between each interval of flesh-covered bone, once used for flight - known by their hollow bones in the front halves of their bodies - but now for body language and smacking other creatures. The fleet's pelts came in mostly tan, but she spotted a few black-pelted ones among the crowd.

The female with the biggest fangs was the chief, and she saw that the chief of that fleet was mostly tan, but with black markings on her face. That one was drawn to life-size - the top of her head nearly reached the ceiling. The rest of her fleet was in the background, walking solemnly along the wall as if they, too, were wandering through the tunnel as she was. The chief's head was bowed and her black eyes with white pupils faced downwards, in a sign of respect for what they marched for. Even with the slight details, she could almost feel the painting. Then, she was the painting.

Whia grasses whipping on the outskirts of her thin pelt as she treaded through the moors, her fleet close behind. A gale almost as furious as her fleet soaring along, disturbing the tall, tan grass almost as much as she. The clear skies were tinted orange with the sunset, and soon complete darkness would come, and they would be guided by the stars on their path.

Then, she was back in the tunnel, her much smaller body and small paws planted firmly on the cold stone.

She blinked, looking up at the painting in wonder.

The other side was depicting a flat mountain peak, where a single ferri trudged along through the thin layer of snow. It was also headed in the same direction as the noxes; deeper into the tunnel. Ferri were nearly as big as noxes, though they were only around three times taller than she. Their bodies were slimmer and lithe, with narrow heads and shoulders, and shorter legs. They were much longer than her, even including her tail.

Their heads seemed to adorn no ears, though their ears were just disk-like, and at the sides of their head. Thick foam coated their mouths and narrow muzzles, a mess of bacteria and disease - one bite, and an animal would not recover. Twin tails sprouted from their backs. The one in the painting had a thicker, dark gray pelt, and green eyes, like her own. She found this odd, considering most had eyes the color of sunsets and fire. The ferri's claws sunk into the snow as it dragged itself through a blizzard.

Like the noxes, she found herself living the picture.

A chill sunk through her pelt, all the way into her bones, to her marrow. Her eyes had to become near-slits to see, but everything was still a complete mess of confusing white. Wind shifted every few moments, sometimes pushing her along, and at other times trying to shove her backwards, towards the kingdom she had abandoned. The blizzard an obstacle not easily avoided, but she knew a cave was close by, and with it came temporary shelter for her journey.

When she was back in the tunnel, the chill seemed to stay with her a little longer than she would have liked.

She continued on, wondering what creature had painted these. They all were heading somewhere, and in the same direction. Every species she had ever encountered was plastered somewhere on the walls, entire stories of endless varieties. Others she had never seen went through places she couldn't have imagined, but she had a feeling she would seem them personally some day. The farther into the cave she ventured, the more New-Style the painting became.

Vivid details, and shadowing. All new kinds of paint, and with delicate, intricate tools, occasionally one's own paws, but never talons. They seemed to come alive even more than those at the start, when she had dwelled among them. It was if the tunnel was inhabited by every creature ever known, and they all moved as she did; they followed her. They all had the same eyes low, in a sign of respect for whoever they were approaching. The greatest of the species even did so - noxes were never known to bow, never to a creature that wasn't a chief of their fleet.

The tip of a primary feather caught her eye, and her gaze traveled upwards. Above her head was a beautiful, life-sized painting of a havoc. An entire flock soared higher overhead, though they were much smaller than compared to the actual size. They were just under the size of noxes, and looked much like eagles from the First World. Its wingspan was so large, its wingtips reached past the ceiling, dipping onto the highest points of the walls on either side. Two heads sprouted from its torso, however. Unlike in the real world, the two painted heads were cooperating, flying together. If it was more realistic, one would be limp and hanging, unconscious, but she decided it was an artistic choice, since a limp head from the angle it was at would be extremely hard to capture.

This havoc was of a black coloration, though the insides of each feather had tan coloration, giving it a speckled look. She found herself in the place of the havoc, like the nox and the ferri previously.

A warm draft lifted the huge wings upwards, taking her high into the sky. The open ocean loomed below, early-morning sun sparkling off of the soft, nearly still, waves. Fersherks swam through the crystal-clear waters below, half her size - perfect for a meal, and practically begging to be eaten, daring to swim so close to the surface. For once, the other head wasn't pecking her relentlessly, and they could both enjoy a peaceful day without territory bouts.

Then she stood back in the tunnel. Already she missed the salty air, and vowed to herself to shift into a havoc sometime and patrol the beach. She continued on her way, enjoying the beautiful paintings that seemed more and more realistic and life-like.

It all came to an end. A small cave of a dead-end, with wider walls and a taller ceiling. The final destination of all the animals she had walked with. The painting that she now stood in front of made her convinced that life itself had imprinted on the stone, since she knew of no paw that could paint as good as what she saw. Atop a perch of rugged stone, with the heads of nearly every animal of the tunnel peering upwards to the creature standing on it, was a shapeshifter.

One with a pelt to match her own, and a body she could only describe as hers. She wore a headdress. A mask fox's pelt, with a fox skull hiding her head. Parts of the skull had been broken to make place for her eyes. The retinas shone through, making it appear as though the skull had white eyes floating amid empty black sockets with jagged edges. Two feathers stuck out of the joint between the top of the pelt and the back of the skull, being blown by a wind that she could  _feel_. Everything in the painting was stirred by the wind that she felt, though at the same time all was still.

The shapeshifter on the perch looked down upon her, and she looked back up at it.

Above it was writing. She remembered the language it was written in, one from the First World, used by a species long gone. Two words were written in bold, black lettering, in ink so black they could challenge the night sky that stretched between the stars. They barely left her vocal cords, though they rasped and dragged along them as if they dared not reach past her teeth.

"The shaman..."

That was  _her_.

Flashes of her future flickered in front of her eyes as they glazed.

Smoke and flames, their fiery tongues licking across the forest that turned to ash.

A dracon's skull, stained with blood, crumbling to dust.

A fox with a pelt brighter than she had ever seen, so russet and orange like the sunrise and set that she was awe-struck.

A familiar white, feline pelt. Blue eyes that practically glow with kindness and warmth.

Animals of all species bowing before her.

Fabric-made puppets, waiting to do anything she commanded.

With a single blink, she was placed back in reality, the vivid visions of her future fading in her sight but burning in the back of her mind. She shook out her pelt, took one last look around, and turned tail to start leaving the tunnel as soon as possible. "I am  _out._ No thank you, spooky painting tunnel, no thank you. That's enough for all eternity for me, thanks."

"... Ok maybe I'll be back later."

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone, meet my favorite character, who I guess I'll refer to here as Shaman, since that is what she goes by often. (Her name totally isn't a secret...) Ahem, anyway. She appears a lot throughout the series, and this is towards the end of her own book, which has her name in the goddamn title so I can't really tell you. But it'll be obvious once it's published, since her name is revealed at some point before I even start writing that one. Her personality isn't very clear in this, but usually she's very... uh... characteristic, and up front about how she's like. Not very much so when she's in the situation portrayed here. Just know that she is my fucking FAVORITE, and if you ever get around to reading my stuff when it's published (... please do, this will be my livelihood) I think she might be your favorite, too. If you like strong female characters, that is. (I'm trying really hard not to reveal too much.) I hope you enjoyed this one-shot, which will be much-better written and less confusing in the book, trust me.


End file.
